My Eyes on You
by darklori
Summary: Ichigo: It's the effin' cheesiest thing! I cant take my eyes off of her, moronically sad but true.
1. The Tease

**Disclaimer**: Me no own nothing! If I did, Ichigo and Rukia would be humping like bunnies.

**Summary: **Ichigo: It's the effin' cheesiest thing! I cant take my eyes off of her, moronically sad but true.

**Rating: It's M for sexual themes and cussing. Later on, it'll be M for Lemon**

A/N: What lo, behold, my first Lemon. And it wont even be a "I wanna try something mild first and see how it goes" lemon, it's "down and dirty, let's get down to business, ecchi-ness highly-recommended" lemon. I'm a pervert, there. You've been amply warned; please don't read if you're too young for this.

For those who requested an answer to Rukia's question in Operation: First Kiss, this is for You. Kisses!

And sorry 'bout this, the characters might become OOC, but I can't remove it without ruining my plot. Gomen in advance.

**Eyes On You**

**________________________________**

**The Tease**

**________________________________**

_**Ichigo's POV**_

I'm doing homework, and she's reading manga.

That's typical enough. And though it mildly annoys me that she's slacking off while I'm working my ass off, what I don't like about the whole scenario is that she's lying face-down on the bed... again.

She knows I hate it when she does that. Damn it, I said it enough times now that the last time I yelled about it, she mimicked my spiel _and_ my tone, effectively shutting me up.

It's not that I don't like seeing her on my bed. 'Cause frankly, if I can have my way, she'd be lying there twenty-four hours, seven days a week, like how it is in freakin' convenience store ads. And that's the problem, ladies and gentlemen, I _really_ like seeing her in my bed -- too much, in fact.

We've been dating for over four months now. Throughout those four months, we've fought (a lot), kissed (a lot), made-out (practically every chance we got), and of course, there's the occasional heavy petting sessions that takes all of my infamous resolve to _not_ rip her panties off and fuck her six ways 'til Sunday.

And I would have, three days ago, if only she hadn't said _the three words_.

Before you ask, it's "No". We're not talking about the mushy _three words _that spell commitment and sappiness to that effect. We've already had that established over four months ago, and not even a Kenpachi kill-all-you-can spree can make me say (or shout) mushy crap again.

It's the three words that every new boyfriend dreads to hear the most.

_"I'm not ready."_

Fuck.

Her voice had sounded shaky and unsure.

We were in the middle of a really hot and dirty make-out session. She was breathing hard, either out of pleasure or fear, I'm not sure. I know she liked it though. Hell, I know she liked it _a lot_, because she was sopping wet when I touched her underneath her school skirt. Her soft body quivered. She gave a surprised gasp and then a pleasured moan when I slipped my middle finger through the side of her panties, penetrating her.

But when I looked into her beautiful violet eyes darkened with lust, I also saw apprehension and fear.

So even before she even said it, I was able to guess what she was going to say. But no amount of preparation would have sufficed though. She lifted her hand which was busy tugging my hair and shakily tried to drag my forearm away from her pussy.

"I-I'm not ready," she breathed out.

I might have howled in disappointment, or growled, I'm not sure; my senses got all blurry a few seconds after she said it. All I know is that I made a sound akin to starving wolf being deprived of food that was already held securely in its fangs.

She might have apologized or most probably just gave me a look of apology, to which I know I only grunted in response.

Thinking back on it now, I might have seemed like an exotic animal in a zoo. All red-faced, orange-haired with grunts, growls and howls coming out of me.

I knew in an instinctive level that if I have only pushed the er, _issue_, I could have gotten her consent in the long run. Heck, I'd probably even get her begging for it if I was given just a couple minutes more.

But contrary to what others believe, chivalry isn't dead. And when a girl says "no", then the guy should step on the breaks. And this particular girl we're talking about is Rukia, the person I went through so many crazy crap for, and not just any random girl. Not to mention she'd probably kick my boner senseless if I insisted on it. And my cock had already gone through so much trauma being denied like this, thank you very much.

I tried to jack off, I truly did, but the pleasure I got from her kisses, moans, experimental caresses and soft skin heightened my senses to a level that my own hand wasn't able to cut it.

Suffice it to say I had to take an ice cold shower after that incident.

And three days after that, I've become a constant fixture in the bathroom. Really, by the number of times I have to run to the bathroom just so I could jack off, I should just set up camp there, it'll definitely save more time and energy.

Yuzu thinks I've become obsessed with cleanliness, Karin thinks I've developed some bladder infection. I don't even wanna talk about what my old man lewd thoughts are 'cause... well, for the first time since I hit puberty, he's _embarrassingly_ correct.

Why, you ask?

It's because of spoiled evil midgets. Naive little bitches who doesn't know how to properly act around their hormone-afflicted boyfriends, especially if the aforementioned boyfriend just happened to be someone who recently got cock-blocked by no other than own his girlfriend. Point of reference, Kuchiki Rukia.

Not only was she reading manga on his bed, oh no. Life is never as simple as that for Kurosaki Ichigo.

You see, Rukia just finished eating Yuzu's famous chocolate-chip cookies and is currently licking her fingers off. Giving her digits little kitten licks, her pink tongue darting in and out of her sexy mouth. It doesn't help that I already know just how delicious her little mouth is, and how talented with playing tonsil-hockey her tongue is.

I gave a long-suffering groan.

"Rukia! For fuck's sake, don't eat on my bed. You'll get crumbs all over it. And stop licking the hell out of your hands, it's not hygienic!" I glared at her for good measure.

And like the irreverent bitch that she is, she just paused from reading comics, gave me a playful look. She began reading her manga again, casually disregarding my ire. And resumed petting her fingers.

For the love of all that's holy!

I checked my buddy downstairs. It's semi-erect, but hey, that's nothing new... it's the constant state of my penis for the past three days now.

I know my problem can easily be solved if I just stop checking out the goods, er, that came out wrong, let me rephrase, if I stop checking her out. I need to stop staring at her. But I can't. I just can't! She's too irresistible.

I can't take my eyes off of her.

Bloody fuck. I can't believe I just inwardly said that. That's so cliché, a sappy cliché. It sounds girly too. I'm starting to sound like one of those afternoon romance soaps Yuzu likes to watch. I'm turning into someone sappy and girly.

Yeah, a sappy romantic hero... with tampons!

Then the phone rang, not the shinigami cellphone, but my home phone extension, set atop of my side table. She reached out to grab the receiver, then called out a cheerful, "Moshi moshi."

And judging by the hyper feminine voice I can hear all the way across the room, it's probably Inoue.

"Ohayou, Inoue." Rukia intoned. "Okay, calm down. I know it's terrible that the convenience store ran out of red bean paste..."

She sat up; pulling the phone on the bed with her, her left foot started playing with the long telephone cord that connects the phone extension to the side of the wall.

I grunted and turned back to my Trig homework. It's a bunch of angle and curve problems. It should be easy enough for a smart student like me, but as you can well see, my concentration is elsewhere. Now judging by the angles on this problem... the answer should be close to 40 degrees, I wanna be sure of course, so I need the calculator. I looked for it in my drawer. It's not where is usually is.

I faced Rukia to ask her where my calculator is...

... the pencil I'm holding snapped in two. She's lying on the bed again, this time; she's lying on her back, with her feet propped up the headboard opposite me. From where I'm sitting, I can see her long creamy legs; the skirt she's wearing is bunched up across mid-thigh. It doesn't end there though; the long telephone cord is loosely crisscrossed all over her legs, from her slender ankles up to mid-thigh. The black cord provided contrast to her pale legs, outlining the whiteness and flawlessness of her skin.

How the hell could that _thing_ be where I wanna be, that is, all tangled up with her legs!?

Hell, I can't believe I'm jealous of a telephone cord. Just how far gone am I? I've _got_ to go back to everything that's sane. Okay, back to the homework.

But before I can look away, her skirt fell away from her legs, towards her stomach. I got a glimpse of milky white inner thighs and white strawberry-patterned panties --

I choked on my own spit.

I think my brain just short-circuited. How _cruel_ can life be? Seriously! _Strawberry_ panties??? Down below, my not-so-little soldier is waking up... standing up with rapt attention. And who the hell can blame him?

I think my head restarted like a computer gone out of whack. And when my frayed brain cells started firing synapses again, it can only tell me one thing: jump Kuchiki Rukia.

_M-must remain sane! Chivalry! Chivalry! Losing to my hormones is NOT an option._

Fortunately, Rukia seemed to have noticed her dishevelment and tugged her skirt up to her knees, it fell down to mid-thigh again, but that's better than unconsciously flashing me with her suggestive undergarment.

I think I growled low in my throat, whether it's from relief or disappointment, I'm not sure. Well, at least, I can start breathing again, okay now, how do I stop my heart from palpitating like I'm having a heart attack...

Not to mention how to get rid of my painfully hard arousal.

I'll have to think non-Rukia related things. Yeah, come to think of it, maybe meditation can assist me in this problem. That entire Zen idealist thing can help me concentrate on things other than Rukia. But who to ask?

My old man? I shuddered.

Urahara? Then he'll tell Yoruichi and then, _everyone_ will know.

Chad? He'll probably say he doesn't know much about it, 'cause that'll take less time than actually explaining.

Ishida? Nah... I can just imagine his annoying I'm a Quincy-and-therefore-better-than-you-idiot-shinigami smirk.

Inoue? Er, never mind.

Renji? I can't imagine him actually _thinking_ much less meditating.

Ukitake-san? Nah, too sick.

Kenpachi? Nope, too crazy.

Shunsui? Too lazy.

Ikakku-san? Too bald.

Out of all the people (dead or alive) I know, only one person seems knowledgeable about it.

And it's no less than the noble head of the Kuchiki clan and shinigami captain, Kuchiki Byakuya.

Now how do I go about asking _him_?

_"Oi, Byakuya, long time no see, huh? Hey, I have a question, how will I go about meditating? 'Cause you know, eversince me and your little sister started dating, all I can seem to think about is Rukia. I'm in this constant state of erection and I'm really one hairbreadth away from jumping her..."_

That'll just make my day. A thousand angry blades wanting to make sushi out of me, all in its pristine pink-ness, no less.

I have to be a man. Right. I don't need Byakuya's help to overcome this. Not that I'm afraid of Rukia's scary-as-shit ass of a brother. There are some things a man must face on his own.

I don't think I convinced myself. Gotta think of something else, right.

Homework!

Let's see... I have to think Math, there's nothing remotely perverted about Math. It's full of abstract concepts that isn't related to Rukia.

Concepts like numbers, planes, angles, curves, degrees, the degree and angle I should position Rukia so I can take full advantage of her luscious curves...

_Urgh!!!_

This isn't working.

"Bye Inoue, I'll meet you at the market." I heard Rukia say. Then she put the receiver back on it's cradle.

She stood up after finally putting her clothes back to covering what it should. "I'm accompanying Inoue to the grocer's. Tatsuki's got club practice today so I thought I should go with Inoue."

She walked nonchalantly towards the door, apparently not noticing my absorption of her, and my er, _wood_.

"Oh, before I forgot to tell you..." She looked back at me, with her hands poised on the doorknob. She gave a small naughty smile and continued, "I also bought a matching strawberry-patterned bra."

She closed the door and ran down the hallways, but not before giving me a self-satisfied smirk.

I just knew someday, she'd be the death of me. Can a person actually die from unfulfilled horniness?

Fuck, I need to go to the bathroom again.

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This one's a three-shot baby. So please wait for the coming chapters, okay?

I wanna thank people who gives time and effort to review my work. ^_^ It also feels nice when you favourite or subscribe. But reading about your appreciation is something special. So namely, thanks to Goku's Daughter, Black Sun Upon An Icy Sky, AvaLuna, Itazuk, The Summer Breeze, Just me and myself, ara07, makoshark, and SapphireFlamesX.

So how do you guys like it?

But seriously, I'm so cheesy when picking out titles. Arggh!!! I'll post the plots for my future fic on my profile, if you can come up with a better title, please feel free to PM me. Thanks.

Please review.

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Next Chapter:

The Tormented

_There's that look in his eyes again, as if he wanted to kiss me and punish me at the same time. _

_I sighed. I admit I've been teasing him mercilessly these past three days. but Ichigo's so dense sometimes. Why do I always have to spell it out for him? _

_I'm ready now..._

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	2. The Tormented

**Disclaimer**: I ain't own no Bleach!

**Eyes On You**

**________________________________**

**The Tormented**

**________________________________**

_**Rukia's POV**_

I counted to ten and schooled myself into pasting the fake saccharine smile on my face. _Patience..._

I promised myself I'd get the chance to kill Ishida later.

When I agreed to become his model for the outfit the girls of our class are going to wear for the school festival, I didn't think he had _this _in mind.

_This _just happened to be a collection of frills, lace and semi-transparent cloths that were sewn together to a semblance of a maid costume. A dress that was cut low enough to show off whatever cleavage I have, short enough that if I move too much, I'd probably flash everyone. And believe me, with the underwear I have on right now, I really dont want anybody other than Ichigo seeing it. Let's just say there's hardly any _cloth_ to it -- and that Matsumoto-fukutaicho helped me pick it out.

When I first walked into the classroom wearing this sinful excuse of a maid costume, the guys all cheered and hooted and whistled. The girls looked at me with emotions varying from jealous indignation to helpless empathy.

Inoue would have been standing here instead of me, but she's already in the school play and wont be participating in the class cafe.

I would have balked, but I already gave a promise to Ishida, and the Kuchiki etiquette that the clan elders pounded into me for the past 50 years isn't something I can ignore at will. Of course, when they taught me all those a-noble-must-honor-promises teachings, they didn't know there were such a thing as sex costumes.

Needless to say, I'm standing in a roomful of hormonal teenagers like a vision from a hentai manga.

So where are hollows when you need them?

The male population of our class are now just openly staring at me. Some have beady and glassy eyes; others have drools on their faces; some of them are hyperventilating; and I think Keigo's having seizures, judging by his weird hand gestures.

I can hear Ishida droning on and on about the dress.

I groaned.

_Oh god save me from closet perverts!_

At least with guys like Kon and Keigo, you know what to expect: a meaty paw there, a glomp here, the occasional peak-up-your-skirt and sick innouendoes. You can guess what they'll do... and can therefore avoid it.

Closet perverts are another matter entirely.

Classic example, Kurosaki Ichigo.

In the 3 years I've known him, he seemed so shy and _innocent_ around women; he gets totally violent whenever his Dad, Keigo and Kon's insinuations got too perverted and I never ever saw any indecent magazines in his room. Heaven help anybody who says the word sex and Ichigo in the same sentence.

It's what I honestly thought.

That belief did an abrupt 360 six months ago, when he turned 18... and started sleeping with every available female in town.

I groaned, as is my habit whenever I remember it.

_Yes, he went through a one-night stand phase. Deal with it Kuchiki!_

Oh, Ichigo's an outright pervert. He even got a thing for dirty talk.

I don't even understand half of the things he whispers in my ear when no one's looking. And mind you, I'm not some naive Victorian miss, I came from dirty slums streaming with horny people; and then I came to the shinigami barracks, where although men seem more respectable, doesn't mean they're any less hornier.

I'm a virgin, not a shrub. I _know_ what sex is.

He doesn't even seem to care where we are or what we are doing when he says things like that, making it seem like he's got nothing else but sex in the brain. He's freakin' horny, _anytime, anyday, anywhere_.

Not that I don't appreciate it. I like it, so-_freaking_-much. In fact, I like it so much that a week ago, we ended up in the school equipment shed, lips locked in an all-out war, my back propped up to the wall, one of his hands had gone underneath my blouse while the other was squeezing and caressing my butt, Ichigo grinding his rather prominent uhm, _bulge_ in between my legs.

That I was the one who lured him to the shed is something I won't admit.

Another example, Ishida Uryuu.

The guy wears white like some freaking virgin, he doesn't even peek at Keigo's ecchi magazines, and he made alarmed protestations when Inoue tried to undress in front of him. But now, hell, he's got me wearing _this_ --

A direct result of some master/maid fetish. Heck, I won't be surprised if he suddenly whips out a pair of furry handcuffs and asks Inoue to 'model' it next.

My hands are itching to punch somebody, but my usual target (a.k.a Ichigo) isn't here yet.

I need somebody to tell these guys to stop leering at me.

And can somebody_, please _wipe the blood dripping off of Keigo's nose!?

"I chose the color black when I created this costume because it suits almost all of the girls in our class. As you can see, it practically highlights Kuchiki-san's pale skin, making it seem as if it's glowing..."

Hearing Ishida's commentary, I suddenly realized he'd make a good substitute punching bag.

"And this," Ishida went behind Rukia to tie on her hair. "This will perfectly frame their faces and also provide contrast to their hair."

Did Ishida just put a ridiculous girly headband on me?

My hand flew up to touch the top of my head... it collided with a silky concoction of strings and lace. I want to shriek in dismay.

Punch him _now_?

Oh hell, where is Ichigo when I need him?

Probably he's late leaving the house, needing to take care of _business _in the bathroom. I'm not sure, because I left immediately (more like, narrowly escaped) after giving him a burning kiss and swiping hard at his delicious pants-clad _steeple_.

"Ohayou--"

My hero just arrived.

"AAAhh!"

And had gotten a good look at what I'm sportin'.

_Thanks Ichigo, I get that I look hot, you can close your mouth now._

"Wh-what are y-you wearing?"

_Apparently, it's every man's dream, you moron._

Obviously, he wasn't listening when I told him a week ago that I'm suppossed to model Ishida's little number today. I don't really blame him, though, he was probably more concerned with nibbling my throat and caressing my breasts at that time.

Not to mention I also had my hands underneath his shirt, getting my fill of his perfectly formed abdominal muscles. God, he was just so cut and so _hard_ all over, so deliciously warm, and his devilish hands were -- uhm, my mind is rambling.

_Where was I?_

Oh yeah, in a classroom wearing a sex costume.

Now Ichigo's just staring all googly-eyed at me. How long has it been? Really, now is _not _the time for him to have brain anuerism!

I glared at him. I'm hoping he understands that it's a silent signal for SOS.

The idiot just glared back.

Well, so much for hoping. This is what I get from counting on my moron of a boyfriend.

"I-chi-go!!!" Keigo yelled, running up to Carrot-top complete with a blood-dripping nose and a drooling mouth. "You are so lucky to be dating a sexy goddess!!! Tell me that you have already partaken of her body's sweet delights!"

Keigo's efforts were rewarded with a straight punch to the nose, he plopped to the floor a couple paces back.

Great! Ichigo really has no sense of priorities. Clearly, as any good boyfriend, what he should do is to tell Ishida to let me remove this god-forsaken outfit or at least do something about his leering classmates. But no! He just had to take care of Keigo first.

After doing his fair share of ogling, of course.

_Argh! Men!_

"Ichigo!" Keigo started whining and sobbing dramatically. "Don't tell me you still have yet to sample her charms!?"

It was so close to the truth, I stiffled a horrified laughter. Ichigo's turning into different shades of red.

_Wow, a skin color to match his name._

"Shut your mouth, you sick pervert!" Ichigo growled, knocking his fist downward to hit the top of Keigo's head. He didn't stop there either, he kept on bashing Keigo.

Ichigo, my uncouth moron, stop hitting his head. I don't want to be partly responsible for the untimely demise of Keigo's few remaining brain cells -- however microscopic and useless they are.

Mizuiro took exception to our reactions and decided to torment Ichigo further. "Ichigo, you protest too much. People might think Keigo's right, you know."

_Opps._

Some our classmates started snickering, then the girls giggled and the boys were laughing.

"Ichigo, you idiot!"

That was a female voice, Tatsuki, I think.

I _almost _feel bad for Ichigo--

"Who would want to do that with _her _anyway!?" Ichigo was pointing at me.

Well,_ Almost. _And have I mentioned I wholeheartedly agree with Tatsuki?

Ichigo says the stupidest things.

"I-chi-go!" Keigo whined, "How can you say such horrid things about our beautiful Rukia-chan?" Huge tears are coming out of his eyes. "I can't believe my friend is a blind idiot..."

_Wow. Keigo actually had a point there. _

A sure sign of future cataclysmic events.

"Ichigo, if you can say things like that in front of your girlfriend, I have to agree that you are stupid," Mizuiro said with his boyish smile.

Everybody started laughing, except Inoue, of course.

I inwardly chuckled.

We've got enough people thinking that Ichigo's a moron to form a small parade. I could be up front throwing the baton wearing a majorette custome and I'm sure Renji would just love to hold the banner.

"Kurosaki," Ishida chidded, "Is it a talent of yours to always say the wrong things?"

Ichigo growled. "Shut it, four-eyes!"

_Oh no, Ishida, you don't get to join the Ichigo's an Idiot parade. Not while I'm still wearing a by-product of your fetishes._

"Rukia-chan," Keigo cried. "Please don't feel bad about what Ichigo said. Don't take it seriously."

I blinked up at him.

Actually, I didn't take it seriously. I've had enough proof of just how _badly_ he wants me. I have, after all, been making things hard for him this past week. Uhm, no pun intended.

But that doesn't mean I'm taking it lightly either. What he said was nothing short of a public insult. I'd have kicked him, but Ichigo taught me the value of keeping up school "images".

Ichigo will soon learn that he shouldn't mess with his girlfriend when she's practically wearing lingerie.

_Lights... Camera... Action!_

I stared at Ichigo with teary doe-eyes. I paused for effect to make sure my audience gets to see it. Then the waterworks: big tears falling in synchronization. I whipped out a white hanky and made a big show of wiping my tears.

"I'm sorry Kurosaki-kun," I began in a pained voice. "I know that I don't deserve to date somebody like you..."

Everybody's quiet. The class is soaking this up.

_Damn, I'm good._

"... I'm not smart enough..." I kept the tears going. I pretended to hung my head down in shame.

"... I'm not tall enough..." At this, I pretended to be so consumed with hurt that I'm bunching the side of my skirt with my right hand, hiking it's already indecent length even higher, giving them a perfect view of my long legs. I think Keigo's nose is starting to bleed again, along with some of the males in the room.

I then used my left hand to trace my right arm, slowly inching upwards. I clutched onto the my upper arm, pushing my less-than-ample cleavage up. "... I'm too frail and skinny..."

Raising my head up, I made sure my captivated fans can see my big purple eyes still glistening with tears. "I'm plain-faced. There's nothing special about me."

I could hear gasps of sympathy from the girls. The boys are staring at me with eyes mixed with lust and pity. Tatsuki is trying hard not to laugh, Ishida made a choking cough in the background, I think they're both catching up on what I'm doing.

Oh Ichigo _knows_ what I'm doing, and looks like he's both angry and aroused. I prefer the aroused part, it makes a mockery out of his foolishly uttered words.

"Kurosaki-kun is so mean!" I can hear somebody saying now, this one's female.

"No, Kuchiki-san, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you. You're perfect!" A male classmate.

"Yeah, he's the one who doesn't deserve a girl like Kuchiki-san!" Another male.

"What the hell, Rukia!" That was Ichigo. "Quit doing that!"

In the next five minutes, people agreed that I'm a sweet and wonderful girl unlucky enough to have such an unappreciative bastard as a boyfriend. They all hurried to give me assurances, to which I only responded with a look of faked disbelief.

Oh god, I wanted to laugh so bad at this point. Ichigo's glare is so fierce that it can make grown men quake in their shoes.

But I'm not done yet. I just need a few minutes more. Math is next (and last) subject...

"Good morning, class."

Ah, perfect timing.

The male Math teacher had just entered.

"What's going on?" The substitute teacher asked, his eyes widened when he saw me infront wearing Ishida's creation.

I tilted my head to the side and gave my teacher an innocent smile. I fingered the hem of my skirt.

"Ishida-kun asked me to try on the dress we're going to wear for the school fest," I answered in a deceptively sweet voice.

Our Math teacher immediately pinched his nose, probably to halt an oncoming nosebleed. "Y-you should change back to your uniform," He said that reluctantly, as if he didn't really want me to change clothes.

He wasn't the only one affected though. The other guys are back to leering at me.

See _that_ Ichigo? I have sex appeal for _all_ ages!

But with my anger for Ichigo's unwitting reaction slowly receeding, all this male _appreciation_ is starting to make me feel uncomfortable again. For the first time, I'm unhappy with my sharp observation skills.

Why?

I just realized that the males inside the room are pitching uhm, _tents_ in their pants.

And yes, Math teacher included. _The lecherous pervert! _

I suddenly regret teasing Ichigo to an extent that I aroused the males in the room.

It gave me a delicious thrill though, to notice that my boyfriend pitched the _biggest_ tent.

_Bad, baaad girl!_

Oh for god's sake! When will I ever be able to get rid of this ridiculous outfit? I look like a total slut, and it doesn't help that I'm starting to think like one! This is absurd, we have enough _lampposts _here to light the entire Karakura town up!

"Let's go, Rukia." Ichigo took a steely grip on my wrist and dragged me away from all the men's gazes.

_Oh finally!_

"Took you long enough," was all the thanks he'll get from me.

Wait, we're out of the classroom, but he's still walking, dragging me with him.

"Ichigo!" I yanked my arm back. He let go only to grab my upper arm in a stronger grip.

I winced. Damn, that's going to bruise.

We went past the girl's washroom, past the girl's locker room, and he still continued to drag me with him.

"Damn it, Ichigo!" I tried to twist my arm away. "Stop!"

Ichigo just glared menacingly at me and hissed in a dangerously low voice. "Shut up."

I gulped. I rarely see Ichigo this angry. Like _royally pissed_ angry.

We reached the end of the hall. He opened the door to the music room, we both know it's empty during this time of the day.

He roughly shoved me in.

It's a bit cold in here; and dark. The curtains are thick and black, only allowing sunlight in through the gaping sides.

I shivered, but not because I'm cold. Ichigo had just locked the door, creating a creepy resounding click.

My eyes widened. Should I apologize?

_Hell, no!_

"I-Ichigo?" And yet my voice sounded uncertain, damn!

He gave me a fierce golden glare.

I'm starting to feel all shaky and stuff. Stupid unsteady knees, stupid pounding heart. Now's not the time to be weak.

There's that look in his eyes again, as if he wanted to kiss me and punish me at the same time. It excites me, yet it scares me.

I sighed. I admit I've been teasing him mercilessly these past three days, but Ichigo's so dense sometimes. I wanted to communicate that I've made my mind up. Why do I always have to spell it out for him?

I'm ready now...

... but not _right_ _now_.

Tonight, now _that_'s a different matter.

"You," he bit out in a voice that sent tingles down my spine. "Have tormented me this week."

_I know._

"You have given those perverts a good view of what's mine."

_His?_

Oh, he means _me_, or my body, rather.

_Sheesh! Territorial much?_

"Why, Rukia?"

_How to answer that?_

Damn. We're used to insults, shouts, kicks and punches-- and other _touchy_ non-verbal stuff. This communicating thing is something new. Progressive?

_Maybe. Hopefully._

"Ichigo," I hesitated. "A few days ago, when I stopped you from, uhm, doing things, it was because I got scared. I liked it, I liked it _hell of a lot_, but things were moving so quickly. I'm not naive, but I'm not entirely knowledgeable either. When you talk sometimes, there are some things I don't understand..."

"I was afraid I couldn't please you. You've been with a lot of other women, most of them are skilled and good in bed. I don't want you to compare me to them and find me lacking. I know it's just sex, not rocket science, but damn it-!"

I want to pull at my hair. How can talking be so freaking hard?

"- I want to be damned good for you. I want to be best fuck you ever had."

His eyes widened in comprehension, regret replaced anger, giving his amber orbs a warm glow.

I took a deep breath, grateful that he understood.

"But then, your reaction after I said I can't do it..." I sighed and looked away from him, staring at the heavy curtains. "I hated it. It felt like I let you down, and I hate letting you down."

I looked straight into his eyes.

"These past three days, I was trying to show you... that I'm willing to try again."

I stared at him, he just stared back. I was waiting for a feedback, a confirmation.

He just stood there, looking at me with an inscrutable expression.

Seconds ticked by. The silence is driving me nuts.

"Ichigo?"

Still no reply.

Heck, maybe I should hit him, maybe that'll get the point across. Apparently, speech doesn't work on neanderthals.

"Ichigo!"

I lunged at him with a fist, he immediately caught my wrist. He caught my othet arm and gently pressed me to the wall.

His eyes are shining with an unholy golden hue again. Did I mention my kness are turning to jelly?

No? Well, they are. I'm practically turning to mush, because he just landed a hot open-mouthed kiss on my lips. His teeth tugged at my full bottom lip, his tongue and lips trying to work my mouth open, roughly begging for entrance.

Oh god, much obliged.

I closed my eyes as I opened my mouth to his onslaught. His tongue slipped past her lips. He roughly kissed me. I responded in equal mesure, to which he gave a growl of approval. His hand had traveled from my wrist, caressing up my arms, towards my nape to hold my head steady. The other hand is at the small of my back, pressing me tighter to him. I moaned.

He swallowed the sound up. His hot tongue is making a grand tour inside of of my mouth, entwining with my tongue, searching, tasting each depth and crevice in my mouth. I didn't think his kiss could get more demanding than it already is, but it did. The more he delved inside of my mouth, the hungrier he gets. Nipping and kissing until I tasted my own blood on his lips.

This is different from all the kisses we shared before, and we have shared many. Tiny, teasing kisses, rough ones, passionate ones. But this kiss is unlike the others in the past, this is a no-nonsense-kiss that shook me to my core and elicited from me an equal response. Soon I found it difficult to breathe, much less think.

But there's a voice inside that is instinctively warning me.

I got the chance to voice sudden fears when he finally let go of my lips to place tiny nibbling kisses down to my neck. But I took the precious time to luxuriate in the the feeling of Ichigo kissing and biting my pulse point instead. There were equal amounts of pain and pleasure when he got too rough, I got a bit teary-eyed and I can't help but give a weak protesting yelp. He lightly licked my neck in apology, soothing the sting.

The hand that was on my nape is already busy caressing my breasts through the fabric of the dress.

The other hand had traveled up my back to undo the buttons. His mouth kept me from noticing such evil intents though, whispering soothing things in my ear, nibbling and licking the outer lobes of my ear and kissing and sucking the sensitive points around it.

Breathless moans escaped me, sinking in all the wonderful sensations, when the dress suddenly slipped past my shoulders.

I gasped in protest. "Ichig-"

He kissed me full in the mouth again, making me momentarily forget my hesitation. He palmed my breasts through the thin material of my bra, using his index finger to gently scratch my nipple.

I gave a harsh groan. He took it as a sign to continue.

His mouth traveled down my neck again, he bit my shoulder and sucked, purposefully leaving a mark. He went even lower, kissing and sucking all the way to my other breast. He sucked and licked the tip while he played with the other with his index finger. I pressed my hand to the wall to support my shaky knees, while my other hand held onto his hair to keep him there.

I don't know when the bastard got his hand under my skirt, but he's rubbing his thumb in circles against my inner thighs. It lulled my leg muscles into softening up for him. He was able to pry my thighs apart. He wasted no time in caressing me through my panties.

"Ohh.." I heard myself moan in surprised pleasure.

But this was all too wrong, we are in a school with students and teachers that could come in anytime. I pulled my consciousness back from the passionate daze Ichigo put me in.

How to tell him?

'No' isn't quite the word I'm looking for... 'wait', now that sounds more like the thing.

"Ichigo, w-wait!" I whispered shakily to him, trying to get him to look at me.

Instead, he just gave me another deep and searing kiss, as if telling me - without words - to quit being silly. I was inclined to agree with him when his hand sped up his ministrations through my panties.

Oh well... it probably isn't the first time this almost abandoned music room got used for perverted purposes anyway.

I yelped in pleasured surprise when Ichigo's fingers flicked my panties to the side and proceeded to attack my wet folds with his middle finger.

"Ahh!"

"Damn, you're tight!" He groaned.

Should I take that as a compliment?

I was too taken by pleasure to care. I was moaning and gasping uncontrollably now.

"Ssshh..." He got back up to whisper in my ear. "I don't want someone to interrupt us."

Great, I was afraid of getting caught, he just didn't want to get interrupted.

I moaned shakily in response. A warm fuzzy haze is engulfing me, leaving me pliant to his touch.

"You said there are some things you don't understand right?" He demanded seductively.

How come he's so freaking coherent? I'm already a puddle of goo!

He kept his assault on my dripping folds, adding a second finger.

I might have nodded, or moaned, or cursed. Who cares? So long as I got the answer across.

"Then let me teach you," he whispered in my ear, nibbling on it again.

The hand on my crotch shifted, I made a mewl of distress when he removed his fingers.

Without warning, he used his thumb to caress my nub. I shivered against his encroaching hand.

"This is your clit." He circled and added more pressure on it.

"Oh god!" I almost gasped. I was shuddering uncontrollably now. "Please..."

I don't even know what the heck I'm pleading for. Both of my hands clutched Ichigo closer. One dug into his back, the other buried itself in his soft orange hair.

"Baby, you're so responsive." He muttered at me. "I'm close to losing control."

Control? At this point, I don't even _know _what control is.

He fondled my nub, teased it, sometimes stroking it in slow soothing circles while there are times when he rolled his index finger through it roughly, eliciting yelps of almost pain from me.

He was playing with me, toying with me. I would have thought that he's not affected as I am, but I can feel his heart pounding against my almost naked-chest, and I can hear him breathing heavily.

Without stopping his torment of my clit, he plunged a his middle finger inside me again.

"Holy! Ichi-_oh_!" I was past any sort of coherent thought. It felt like I was drowning, being tossed around by silky waves. I'm shivering so bad, Ichigo let go of my breast to hold my waist, keeping me propped to the wall.

"Now, I'm finger fucking you," he gowled low in my ear. "Do you like this?"

I didn't even hear him speak, but I felt his hot breathe on my ear. He was pushing his finger in and out of me gently, but his thumb is working on the nub with almost rough strokes.

"Ichi-go...oh god... Ich.. Ichi."

Don't really know what came over me, but I started moving in rhythm to his stroking hand. I wanted to speed things up, longing to get higher, yet wanting relief at the same time.

He looked at me hotly, his golden eyes burning into mine.

"Mm... oh... m-more. P-_please_." I pleaded.

Something is coiling within me, burning the lower part of my body in a fiery heat. Ichigo seems to know what's happening.

"I n-need... s-something..."

He added another finger within me, and rubbed harder onto my clit with his thumb.

"Ahh...hmmph..." he swallowed my scream with in his mouth.

There was a sudden mind-numbing pleasure. Flashes of white light. My body convulsing and contracting strongly around his fingers.

The white light disappeared. I suddenly felt boneless. I was still contracting around his fingers but it was slowly diminishing in intensity.

"That was... that was-" Unfortunately, I don't know what just happened.

"You just came, Rukia." He said through gritted teeth. "Damn, you felt good."

"I-" I just noticed his fingers are still inside me."I-Ichigo!"

He just smirked devilishly. "Just once more, for me."

My eyes widened, he was moving his fingers inside me again. The contractions aren't even finished yet, but he's already driving me towards another precipice. He moved his fingers deeper and faster. I felt like I was dying from the pleasure.

"I'm almost..." I hissed at him.

He leaned his head towards my bra-clad chest, lightly biting my nipple, at the same, he caressed my nub harder.

I was hurled over the edge again, this one stronger than the last. I bit my hand to keep from screaming. My other hand is on his back, digging my fingers into his uniform.

In a stupor, I vaguely felt Ichigo removing his fingers from my slick lower lips. I willed myself into breathing normally again. In a couple of minutes, I was able to stop my heart from racing.

I looked up at Ichigo, his eyes are still golden with unfulfilled lust. And his pants looked uncomfortable _tight_, well, you get my drift.

"How about you?" I asked hesitantly. "I did. But you didn't get to... so-"

He just tilted his head at me and raised his brows questioningly.

Well I'm really not sexually eloquent, so I'm probably not making much sense. I think gestures would convey my thoughts better.

I lightly tapped my index finger against his _sword_. He jumped away from me as if I just scorched him.

Frowning, it was my turn to look questioningly at him.

"That was-" Ichigo seemed at a loss for words. "An apology of sorts. Hell, it's not enough but for now, it's the only way I can express it."

I sighed. We're a couple of communication-impaired individuals. Our crappy lives left us socially-stunted.

Thinking of it that way, it sounds as if we're both damaged goods. Damn, I guess we _do_ belong together.

"C'mon, Rukia." Ichigo smirked. "Let's go home. I'm not finished with you yet."

_Arrogant prick._

But I groaned when I looked down at myself. I'm still wearing Ishida's thrice-damned sex costume.

Come to think of it, Ichigo seemed to like it, judging by how he kept on ogling me.

I smiled at Ichigo innocently.

"Maybe you'd like to ask Ishida to let me to keep this costume for... future use?"

________________________________________________________

A/N:

First off, sorry, I wanted to upload sooner, but school and work got in the way. It doesn't help that my laptop's keyboard went bonkers. I also beta my own work, so there are slip-ups, gomen. English isn't my first language.

Ichigo's escapades had given Rukia insecurities. Well...

I'm aiming for something light but did it turn out _slow and draggy_ instead? God, I hope not. But please, tell me what you think.

To Ishida lovers out there: _"Please don't spear me!"_ I don't hate him, I really don't. Gomenasuru.

And thanks to those who PMed, subscribed, faved, story/author-alerted and most specially those who reviewed. You're such wonderful, beautiful people.

Please wait for the next chapter. ^_^

Kisses!

~Lori-chan


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